


Apocalypse Now

by WingcommanderArthurShappey



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, Skipthur, what a surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 13:33:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5628397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingcommanderArthurShappey/pseuds/WingcommanderArthurShappey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur finally knows what an Apocalypse feels like.</p><p>This is no way to end things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apocalypse Now

  
Later on, when Skip had left for the flight deck, Arthur thought that in a way, perhaps it had been _meant_ to be their last time, because nothing had ever felt better.

Arthur had never thought that it would ever end.

Of  course, he'd  _feared_ it would. You always did, when you were a bit too lucky, or a bit too happy, or a bit of both. 

But now it was ending. It _was_ ending _._ Skip was standing before him with his hat in his hands and the _look_ on his face, and Arthur could feel his heart sink like a stone, and not one of the small sort that you could pick up to add to your collection of interesting minerals. 

"But, Skip," he said softly, and his voice was cracking at the edges, like that old soup bowl Arthur didn't want Mum to throw out because it had paintings of fat little birds on it. "I thought... you enjoyed it! You ... you said it was a thing between you and me, like our little secret, and... and I really _like_ having secrets with you, even if they're just little ones! And I _promise_ I didn't tell anyone this time!" he added quickly, when the look on Martin's face became even more like _the look._

 

 _"_ Yes, Arthur," he said, and he said it in the _voice_ , the one that meant he was nearly at the end of his temper, and if you got both the look and the voice, you knew you were in quite a bit of trouble. "That is precisely the problem!"

 

"What, me not telling anyone?" Arthur said quickly, and he knew he was interrupting, which was a thing no one liked very much, especially Skip, but he really didn't want to hear the end of the sentence, because the end of the sentence would be what the problem really was, and Arthur didn't want to hear it because, in a way, he already knew. "Because if so, I could ring Mum on her phone. Or I could just go up to the flight deck and tell Douglas!"

 

"No! The problem is that we have to do it in secret!"

 

"Okay, then!" (And here Arthur could feel himself getting a bit desperate.) "Why don't we just do it where people can _see_ , then? Or, if you're not comfortable with them watching us, we could just... announce it! You know, like, 'hey, chaps we're just off to'..."

 

"Arthur...!"

 

"Anyway, I'm sure no one would mind!"

 

"Yes, they would! Look at us, Arthur! Hidden away in a cramped little galley - it's not professional! Sneaking off all the time during flights just to meet up with you in the loo or in here, we... we can't just keep doing this! Douglas is starting to suspect, and I'm sure you know what your _mother_ would say if she could see us like this!"

 

And there was the problem. It wasn't a professional thing to do, whether they did it in secret or out in the open for anyone to see. Arthur looked down at his hands, which were busy rolling the hem of his shirt into a red little sausage shape, and then up at Skip's anxious eyes, and swallowed. He wanted Skip to be happy. That was all that really mattered, even if he sometimes had to remind himself that it was. He forced himself to nod, and even managed a little smile.

 

"Yeah, I do. Okay. But I... I just thought... you liked it."

 

"I did, Arthur. It's been... a welcome distraction."

 

Arthur's smile grew a little bit wider.

 

"And I've gotten REALLY good at it."

 

"That you have..." 

 

For a moment, Skip's gaze got distant with the memory of it, and Arthur felt the familiar tugging at his heart, a longing to, maybe, reach out for him and do something (anything, really) to make things better. But then Skip pulled himself together and shook his head a little, like he did when he dozed off in the car on the way to their hotel, and let out a little huff.

"I'm glad we talked this over. I hope you're not upset with me, Arthur. You do understand why I can't keep doing this, don't you?"

 

"'Course, Skip. But, Skip?"

 

"Yes?"

 

Arthur reached for Martin's hand to keep him from leaving, for just a while longer, because any last second they spent together in the comfort of their little secret seemed sweeter than a thousand toblerones, now that he knew it was all going to end so soon.

 

"Just one more time? For old time's sake?"

 

For a moment, Martin hesitated. Then, very slowly, he started smiling.

 

"All right, Arthur. One last time."

 

"Brilliant!"

 

And Arthur let go of him, because he needed both hands for what he was about to do. Skip sighed, and looked at him for a long time. And then, finally, he said the only right thing to say.

 

"Four words. It's a film. _Snakes on a Plane!"_

 

Later on, when Skip had left for the flight deck, Arthur thought to himself that in a way, perhaps it had been meant to be their last time, because no game of Charades had ever felt better.


End file.
